


The Silence

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fanfiction, Genre: PWP, KINK: D/s, M/M, Rating: NC-17 - Freeform, character: bluestreak, character: wheeljack, smut: sticky, verse: g1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:58:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Remorseless PWP</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Silence

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** G1  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Characters:** Bluestreak/Wheeljack  
>  **Warnings:** Sticky, D/s
> 
> **Notes:** A prompt from camfield. The request can be found **[here](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/191244.html?thread=3073292#t3073292) **. I was going to go angsty here, then realized I could totally indulge my Blue’s a Dom kink. So I did.
> 
> **The Prompt:**   
> _Bluestreak/Wheeljack - "Silence is ever more expressive than words."_

It’d started as a joke. Ratchet said he was going to stuff Wheeljack in a corner like a naughty sparkling if he didn’t stop blowing himself up. Bluestreak had been in the medbay too, and had giggled, offering to take a cane to the inventor’s backside so the lesson would stick. Banter ensued, and then suddenly none of them were laughing anymore. Ratchet because he was stunned, but Wheeljack and Bluestreak because somewhere the joke had shifted to flirting, then a coy comment about Bluestreak knowing just which cane he’d use. It’d been Wheeljack’s turn to say something but he couldn’t get his vocalizer to work past the barrage of mental images, and rather than fill the silence with words as he usually did, Bluestreak just smiled at him.

Waiting.

~

The silence was the most telling part. It swelled behind him, pushed down on his shoulders, made him feel like his face wasn’t close enough to the corner, but any closer and his helm fins would touch the wall. Something that was _not_ allowed.

When Bluestreak _stopped_ talking, the world narrowed to just that one little corner. When he was nothing more than a hot presence at Wheeljack’s back, when there was nothing but the silence descending, curling over and around, everything outside ceased to matter. There was a war still, there were mechs depending on him, hoping he wouldn’t screw up. There was a best friend that lived in terror of not being able to save the next life under his hands, and there was still that need within Wheeljack to make a joke, _be_ a joke if it just lessened the tension for a few minutes, but it was all muted. Hushed and blanketed by the heavy silence behind him.

Wheeljack knew what was coming next, but he never knew exactly when. Would it be quick? Would he wait only a few minutes for that first stinging lash? Or would Bluestreak stand behind him, waiting until Wheeljack broke, shaking, gasping, as he broke the silence to beg.

Some days he wanted it over fast. Sometimes the weight of waiting was too much for him, but other days… Other days he wanted it to draw out for hours. He wanted to kneel there, facing his corner, hands clasped on his knees, and wonder. He wanted to really let it sink in that Bluestreak, with his uncanny ability to just _know _, was giving him _exactly_ what he deserved- _needed_ , and was going to, eventually, give him even more. He was letting that silence fill them up. Letting it push everything else down and away.__

__Then the first blow would land._ _

__Somehow Wheeljack never heard it coming. It was a burst of bright pain and a sudden _crack_ that rung off his plating. Followed by another. Then another. The silence between strikes vibrated. It shattered, shimmered, then hung there for shorter and shorter lengths of time until it was filled with the roar of Wheeljack’s vents and the cries of pain he’d _never_ have voiced from a real injury._ _

__His hands splayed against the wall, back arched, helm fins touching either side of the corner as he wheezed, and Wheeljack knew the cane-wielding demon riding his back was only partly done with him._ _

__A soft touch started at his shoulders, stroking down, carefully touching Wheeljack’s burning back. He knew there wouldn’t be any damage. Nothing more than some scratches to his finish, maybe a line of bare silver where the color nanites had been torn away. Bluestreak’s hands trailed down, soothing, but only for that one slow caress. Then Wheeljack’s hips were gripped, knees pushed between his feet, under his aft._ _

__There were no words, no verbal commands, and Wheeljack tried to keep the click of his panel retracting as quiet as he could. The silence wouldn’t really return, not with their respiration so loud, not with the sounds of a slick spike pushing into, then pulling out of an even slicker, wetly lubricated valve._ _

__No matter how he tried, it was never long before Wheeljack was moaning, whimpering, then gasping pleading words for more. For harder. Faster. “Please, Blue! Primus, please! I need it!” Until overload finally tore him apart, ripping the universe away in a blaze of white light before remaking him into a creature that was capable of little more than hanging in the embrace of one stronger, more stable, and certainly quieter, than the walking explosion waiting to happen that Wheeljack was._ _

__Of course, he hadn’t blown up anything since starting this with Bluestreak a few months before._ _

__Wheeljack sighed and tipped his helm back to look up at Bluestreak. “Thanks, Blue.”_ _

__Bluestreak smiled and kissed him lightly, arms tightening in a hug._ _

__They would pull apart in a few minutes, but until then, Wheeljack let the silence soak in._ _

**Author's Note:**

> **([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) ) ******


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